


It's How You Use It

by EmiliaOagi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Crack Treated Seriously, Fanfiction Reader Castiel (Supernatural), Fanfiction Writer Sam Winchester, Humor, M/M, Meta, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiliaOagi/pseuds/EmiliaOagi
Summary: One night Castiel discovers Supernatural fanfiction. Then Dean walks in.Some very meta crack with a smidgen of smut. Based on a prompt from the Profound Bond Discord.





	It's How You Use It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vicktick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicktick/gifts).

> Based off this prompt/tumblr post: 
> 
> Thanks to my beta readers [jemarial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemariel/pseuds/jemariel) and [vicktick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicktick/pseuds/vicktick).
> 
> Also, if you aren't there already, go check out the [Profound Bond Discord!](http://discord.profoundbond.net/)

Late nights (and sometimes afternoons and even mornings) at the bunker, are dull affairs for Castiel, with the two brothers asleep for their respective 4-8 hours. Once upon a time, he would have been content to just stand guard outside their bedrooms, waiting with patience learned from several millennia of unmoving vigilance among the stars.

But after spending so much time on earth (where time moves much more subjectively than it does in heaven), Castiel has learned what very well might be his least favorite human emotion: Boredom.

On this particular night, Castiel is attempting to avoid the pitfalls of boredom with the use of a laptop and the internet. Sam, however, has been kind enough to lend him his laptop. Without anything else to occupy him, Castiel begins to look through Sam's various internet bookmarks. 

He finds more than he bargains for under one that is labeled with 3 characters: Ao3.

It takes him a moment of looking through the user dashboard of "noonesuspectsimsam0502" for him to realize what, exactly, it is. A website for fiction. Fiction based on other fiction. 

All of it is fascinating, and Castiel can see how a species that thrives on stories would want and use a site that caters to them.

But what is truly perplexing, are the things that come under the "works" button. A list of things, all of which are labeled with the “tags” "Supernatural - Carver Edlund" and "Castiel/Dean Winchester".

He reads through half of the first story on the list because he has to confirm that this is what he thinks it is. He reads through the second half of it because Sam, apparently, is very frustrated with the romantic and sexual tension between Castiel and Dean, and has a well-written argument and hypothetical situation about how, on a particularly nasty rugaru hunt a few months ago, they could have wound up together.

Castiel finishes, feeling both pleased with the fictional ending and suddenly much less content with his own.

It is true, Castiel is in love with Dean. Has been since… well, not quite as far back as hell, for all the other angels talk, but very nearly.

As for Dean… Well.

This story though. It gives Castiel a taste of something he wants, of something he does not (and perhaps never will) have.

Castiel hesitates, but he clicks back to the works and reads through all of the ones Sam has written (there are many, and Castiel begins to appreciate that Sam is as frustrated with the lack of consummation as Castiel is).

Then, when he runs out of Sam’s works, he clicks the relationship tag "Castiel/Dean Winchester” and begins to read through those as well.

He is surprised at how many there are, considering that the Winchester Gospels have so little real detail and (according to Charlie) are not particularly well known-- although the series has apparently attracted a “cult following”. That part is evident in the hundreds of stories on this website. The number astonishes Castiel, given that all these writers have to go off is a few dozen books illicitly published, a story these writers think ended when Sam fell into the cage with Lucifer and Michael.

He reads on, amazed at the creativity of these people. He finds himself enjoying these stories, despite a few odd waves of jealousy towards his fictional self. He reads for hours; stories of alternate versions of himself and Dean getting together; stories about all three of them on cases that are silly and far more entertaining than the real ones they handle. Alternate timelines where they found a different way to stop the Apocalypse.

And then he finds the erotica.

He reads these, first with perplexity, then with fascination. This is an aspect he has not explored very much, but like the pizza man video, he sees the appeal. And some of the words are so well written, so well _described_, that Castiel finds himself reacting to them, warmth growing inside his vessel, increasing blood flow to his lower regions.

It is as he is reading a particularly well written one of these “PWPs”, when Dean enters the room. "Hey, Cas. Whatcha got there? Found us a case?"

Castiel glances up at him briefly, then returns to the story in front of him, eyes squinted, as he reads further, even as he answers, "No. Reading."

"Anything interesting?" Dean comes over, laying a hand on Castiel's shoulder as he leans over to read the screen. Castiel waits for the inevitable reaction.

"What the fuck," Dean says exactly 11.4 seconds later. "Dude, this is porn." He reddens. "Porn about…" He makes a gesture. "Us."

"Yes, I had noticed."

"Then why are you reading it?"

Castiel considers his answer. Saying that it is, in a way, a fantasy fulfilled would send Dean running. He also thinks he should avoid mentioning the interesting effects it has on his vessel, but Dean does need an answer. He settles for the reason he had had when he began reading a few hours prior. "Curiosity. I was not aware until now that Chuck's novels had sparked so much artistic outpouring."

Dean snorts. "You should have seen the musical."

Castiel squints at him. "What musical?"

Dean waves a hand, sinking onto the bed behind Castiel, eyes on the screen. "Not important."

Castiel makes a mental note to look up this musical, and turns back to his reading. He expects Dean to either leave or attempt more conversation. It's too late for him to do much more.

"Who writes this stuff?" Dean mutters, about a minute later, apparently still reading over his shoulder. "It's completely unrealistic."

Castiel has very little personal knowledge of sex, but he has spent the last 2,000 years or so watching humans, and sex is one of humanity’s favorite past times. "It seems relatively accurate."

"Not the physical act. The whole…” Dean waves a hand at the screen. “Look, they have me as the _bottom._”

Castiel makes a non-committal noise. “It seems a popular choice in many of these stories.”

“What- Why? Come on, man. I would _clearly _be the top.”

Castiel pauses in his reading. He takes half a moment to consider several things, before saying, “Perhaps, in real life.”

“Dude, I should be the top even in fiction. Have they even actually read the books?”

“Yes, which I believe is why they choose to portray you this way. In many of your sexual encounters detailed in those books, you enjoyed allowing your partner more control. Also, the writer of this story likely believes that you taking the more vulnerable position of bottom gives fictional-you an opportunity to show trust to fictional-me, and at the same time gives your character the additional pleasure of prostate stimulation.”

The room is very quiet for a few minutes before Dean says, sounding thoroughly taken aback, “Dude.”

Castiel shrugs a shoulder and begins to read again. “Or perhaps they just think it’s more sexually appealing this way.”

There is more silence over the next couple of minutes. Castiel continues reading as he waits for whatever comeback Dean is working his way towards.

“It’s still bullshit,” Dean finally says. “Besides. I’d still top. Hypothetically.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, for all Dean can’t see it. “Perhaps.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “I mean, there are other concerns when two dudes do that. Like, size. I think my cock is bigger, so I'd top."

“It’s not,” Castiel says, almost absent-mindedly, having become absorbed in the story once more.

Behind him, Dean audibly chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”

Castiel looks around at him, as it occurs to him what he said. Ah, right. He is probably not supposed to know that (never mind that Dean’s soul was freshly pulled from Hell and Castiel had only been repairing his body when he had “seen” Dean’s penis).

“I think,” he corrects. “I meant, I think mine’s bigger.”

Dean has gone slightly red, and his eyes flicker downwards for a moment. “We are talking bodies, not true forms or whatever,” he says. “Whatever your angel dick looks like doesn’t count, Mr. Chrysler Building.”

“My true form doesn’t have genitalia,” Castiel says, tilting his head, confused at the suggestion. “We don’t need it.”

Dean snorts. “Right, forgot about that.”

“I was referring to my vessel,” Castiel clarifies, though he’s not sure if it's necessary to say so. This conversation has taken a very odd turn.

“Yeah, sure, if it makes you feel better,” Dean says.

“Why would it make me feel better?”

Dean sighs. “Never mind, Cas. It’s just a… a guy thing. A human thing. Size matters and all that.”

Castiel stares at him for a moment, piecing this conversation together. “You’re saying that in matters of sexual intercourse between two males, it matters whose penis is larger?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Interesting.” Castiel turns back to the screen. “Then you would bottom.”

Dean makes a sputtering sound, and Castiel feels a bit smug about having caught the hunter off guard for once. “You’re bullshitting me,” Dean says flatly. “There’s no way.”

Castiel turns back, raising an eyebrow. “There is a simple way to determine one way or the other.”

It takes Dean a moment to get his meaning, and he flushes pink as soon as he does. Castiel is expecting Dean to stutter something and leave, but to his surprise, Dean nods, accepting the challenge. “Okay. Fine.”

Castiel watches as Dean starts to unbutton his pants, then recollects himself, and beings to undo his own belt, a part of his mind dizzy with shock and hope and want and nervous excitement.

They both drop their pants simultaneously, and Castiel’s gaze falls to Dean’s crotch. 

The human penis is an odd-looking thing, Castiel thinks. He’s never quite understood why humans might find them appealing. But then again, his true form is mostly light and wings and eyes, so perhaps it’s another species difference.

Or so he thought, because even though Dean’s dick is exactly as he recalls, Castiel is no longer looking at it as another body part to repair, but as part of the man he is very much in love with and attracted to. He… wants.

Castiel licks his lips needlessly, and drags his gaze back up to Dean’s face, certain that Dean has noticed his slight arousal. He’s suddenly very sure that Dean won’t like that, will be disgusted. Instead...

Dean is staring at Castiel’s dick with straight-up fascination. In a half-strangled voice, he says, “Bro. You’re fucking hung.”

Castiel looks down at himself, recalling the point of this. He was not wrong; his vessel is larger than Dean’s in this respect, but that didn’t matter when this began, and it matters even less now.

Castiel looks up again, just in time to see Dean licks his lips. Dean’s eyes flick up to Castiel’s, who cannot fully suppress the automatic reaction of his body to that movement, to this situation. This situation with Dean right there, halfway to where Castiel wants, wants, _wants _him, with thousands of words of erotica about the two of them dancing in the forefront of his memory.

“We...” Castiel’s throat feels dry. Why does it feel dry? “We should probably be closer. If we want to resolve this. Properly.” He barely keeps his voice steady, and he’s not sure about his face. The line is not subtle at all, and it’s clear that Dean knows it as well.

Dean swallows, and Castiel can’t help but look down at Dean’s own dick, which has also gone from flaccid to semi-erect. “Yeah,” Dean says, his own voice rough. “Best to be sure. Gotta be sure, you know, just in case.”

Castiel nods and they close the gap between them, coming close enough to kiss, (and more to the point) close enough to touch dicks.

The closeness has both of them plumping up and the shabby pretext that has gotten them here falls apart as soon as Dean says, in little more than a whisper, "Can I- can we-"

And Castiel says "Yes",” short and fast.

Dean takes hold of his cock and then Castiel's as well. Castiel lets out a short, static moan, Dean hisses in pleasure, and both of them are now fully hard against each other.

They are both looking down, but Castiel has waited so long and he is not going to wait any longer to take what he wants. He lifts a hand to grab Dean's chin, tilting Dean’s face up towards his, slamming his mouth against Dean's in a fierce kiss.

Years of waiting, years of longing. Desire the angel has never known and will probably never again know, a lifetime of change and learning lived in the amount of time that is but a fruit fly's existence because of this man. All of his love, the love of an angel, which is different, yes, but no less true than a human's love.

All of this wanting poured into this kiss. Castiel takes and takes, as much as Dean is willing to give, consuming lips and tongue. Dean’s hand stutters in shock, but he kisses back, answering the angel’s own passion. Dean’s free hand guides one of Castiel’s to join his in circling their cocks. 

Dizzy and on fire with desire, it takes far too much effort to stay standing. They fall into the bed, and after some rearranging, Dean does indeed wind up on top of Castiel, who finds he does not mind at all. The weight of Dean over him is a pleasing thing.

They rejoin their hands, stroking together, finding a rhythm.

"Dean, I-" Castiel says, all the warning he can manage, the rest of the words cut off as he comes. His physical body bears the brunt of the pleasure, and ah, such pleasure, but even his grace surges in that joyous hallelujah. The lights flicker as he gorans into Dean’s skin, spent.

Dean stares down at him in something akin to wonder, something a little like need, something a lot like love. He comes as well, and collapses on top of Castiel for a few moments, before rolling off to lay next to him.

Castiel feels like he is glowing, physically. His core, his grace feels brighter, and he's sure it must be showing through his physical body.

Eventually, Dean mutters, "We should clean up."

Castiel is too comfortable and warm and sated to want to move. He is not ready to let Dean go until he has to. This is just another bodily fluid and those are easy enough to deal with, so he spares a bit of grace and vanishes it away.

Dean makes a surprised noise, but settles with a grin. "Useful."

Castiel hums. They lay together for some time, limbs tangled together, cuddling. Castiel likes this almost as much as the sex, this holding and being held.

Then Dean starts laughing.

Castiel tilts his head to look at Dean. "What?" Instant concern floods him. Perhaps he did something wrong? Or Dean will chalk this up as an accident or a joke or-

Dean shakes his head, still chuckling. "We didn’t actually answer the question."

"What question?"

"Who would top or bottom."

Castiel rolls over a little, the easier to face Dean. "No, we didn't." He eyes Dean speculatively. "We could always try both, and see which is better."

Dean grins a little more. "I suppose we could." He loops an arm over Castiel and pulls him in. Against his lips, he says, "After all, we both had excellent points."

They kiss again, which leads to other things. And eventually (after the purchase of lube and condoms) they do try both ways.

Multiple times.

**Author's Note:**

> (Sam had been going to Cas's room to retrieve his laptop when he heard the top/bottom debate he stuck around for a moment, amused at the conversation, and when it went silent he wondered if- Then the clear noises of sex sent him scurrying away, even as he thought to himself, "Fucking finally.")


End file.
